


Maybe Today

by just_plain_fanfics



Series: Today [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Lance (Voltron), follow up part (but can be standalone), from lance's perspective mostly this time(still 3rd person tho), slav is treated like an actual person and not a nuisancebc there's not enough of that, slight angst but not too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 02:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12973902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_plain_fanfics/pseuds/just_plain_fanfics
Summary: Lance is pining, unaware of Keith's strangely realistic dreams. Hopefully, things will work themselves out.





	Maybe Today

**Author's Note:**

> i really can't do angst :') so here's a follow up part to the sad beginning
> 
> (also Slav is one of my fave characters, probably bc i see myself in him lmao)

Keith keeps getting the same dream for a while. The same one as the first night, where he and Lance stay in bed, laughing and loving each other. The same one where he has the strange feeling of being unable to remember something, only to wake up for real in a cold and empty bed.

Keith's sick of it. After the fifth night in a row with the same tiring dream, Keith stops trying to sleep. He heads out to the training deck instead, under the cover of the castle ship's artificial night.

He shouts a random command at the room, watching the training deck come to life, quiet whirring sounds echoing around as the training bots fall from holes in the ceiling to stand in front of him. Keith feels alive.

Running from the bot he dodges their lasers, grunting as he lands on his back. He's up and back on his feet in barely a moment, shrugging off the sting on his back and facing the bots with his sword in his hands. Keith's chest heaves, a strong reminder that he's not wearing a binder. Keith huffs, sucking in more air as he shakes his head. In a burst of energy he sprints forwards, sliding in close to the gladiator and cutting the legs off of it with one swipe.

A victorious grin appears on his face as Keith sees the bot go down. One down- he scans the room- two to go. Gritting his teeth in concentration he lunges past the next one, barely missing it's right arm. Keith tries again, his long hair bouncing behind him in a pony tail. He needs to cut it sometime, it's getting much too long for his preference.

The bot lunges back at him, and Keith is almost knocked off his feet. He bends backwards to avoid the sharp spear it carries, moving quickly around to it's blind spot instead. Stabbing his bayard through the bot's middle, Keith twists the sword until the bot crumples completely to the floor. He tries not to think about how real it would feel if it were a Galra, how it might feel if it were flesh instead. Goosebumps creep up his back, and he shakes his head to clear it.

He turns to face the last gladiator. Ducking against the thrust of it's spear, Keith sprints past it. Breathing heavily, he turns back to face his opponent. Then he charges. Running towards the gladiator again, this time slicing right through it's metal stomach as he passes by it. It crumples to the floor, limbs bent at all the wrong angles and body slack. In barely a moment, a part of the floor opens silently and the body disappears through it.

Keith stands next to where the bot disappeared through, a hand on his hip and his chest rising with every breath. Sweat runs down his brow, and a slight grin has taken over his face.

 

Keith looks amazing.

Or, at least to Lance he does. Lance waits by the doors of the training deck, staring at Keith in aw. The sweat just makes him more attractive, Lance thinks, then mentally pinches himself for even thinking that. Part of him wishes it were him that Keith was fighting. That Keith would fight him with as much vigor as the bot, smile like that when locking weapons with Lance. Lance's heart squeezes uncomfortably.

It's no secret to himself, that he likes Keith. Lance has for a while (well longer than just 'a while', it was since the garrison that he had a crush on Keith, even if he wasn't sure about it then). Maybe, Lance thinks, it could be close to love. But he's never felt a romantic love before, nothing like the way he feels towards Keith, so there's really no way to tell. He knows how it feels to love someone in a platonic sense, like his family, his little nieces and nephews, and Hunk too.

But romantic is different than platonic. Lance knows this. He knows it in the way that he loves Hunk, loves him with all his heart, but in the way that two best friends do. He wants to grow old knowing Hunk, do fun things together, and hey, even cuddle. But he wants it as friends. His family too, he loves them so, so, so much, but it's familial. Lance wants to love someone in a different way.

Kieth is different. Lance likes Keith in a much more romantic sense. He wants to do fun things together of course, but he wants to hold hands at the same time, feel the warmth of someone he can trust with both his heart and his life next to him. Lance wants to fall asleep to Keith, and wake up to him again in the morning. He wants to kiss him, hold him, love him.

Yeah, Lance would really like to learn to love Keith.

Lance tries to fight the blush rising in his cheeks as he leans up against the wall outside the training deck. Inside, Keith has started a new round with the bots, running around nimbly, dodging and stabbing. Lance watches, entranced by the beautiful way Keith moves, graceful on his feet, not once messing up his rhythm.

Turning away from the scene with his heart racing, Lance sighs. He should go to bed. What time is it? It was around eleven, according to their space clocks, when he heard a sound from the room next door, and decided to follow. So now it should be what? Around midnight? One in the morning? Lance doesn't know. Taking one last longing glance at Keith, he starts off towards their rooms. He hopes that Keith goes back to his room soon too, as much as the boy might deny it, he does need his sleep.

 

The next morning, Lance heaves himself out of bed with a heavy feeling in his chest. Not any heavier than usual, just the same slight discomfort as usual. He's tired. He shouldn't have stayed up so late last night, but Lance knows that he wouldn't have gotten much sleep anyways. Can anyone really blame him? They're in the middle of a war, for fuck's sake! He's allowed to be tired.

Staring down into his goop, Lance thinks that maybe he should clean his lion today, or try and fight the training bot if Keith isn't still hogging it. Keith. A slight flush spreads across Lance's face. He really hopes Keith went to sleep at a reasonable time last night. Lance had fallen asleep before hearing Keith come back, so he's unsure of when or if Keith ever actually went to bed. Another thought hits him, and he wonders if Keith remembered to take off his binder, and even his sports bra after training that much. Lance wonders if he's prying too much with that, but he really doesn't want Keith to hurt himself. Sighing, Lance just hopes for the best.

Lance wanders off after cleaning his dishes, unsure of where he's really headed. He's walking in the general direction of the hangers, so he guesses that's where he'll go. Except that he doesn't. Lance's legs just keep taking him forwards, past the blue lion's hanger and towards red's.

He hears a voice from inside when he gets closer, the room still mostly dim. From what he can make out, Lance sees Keith sitting by Red's paw, staring up at the giant lion. His mouth is moving, but his words are lost in the great expanse of the room. Lance cranes his neck around the door, trying not too be seen, but also trying to hear what's being said.

"-so I just don't know what to do, Red. I can't really talk to him, he hates me." The red lion rumbles so loudly that even Lance can feel the vibrations shaking through his legs. "No! I can't tell him about the dreams! He'll think I'm a weirdo! Even weirder than before!"

What dreams? Lance wonders who Keith might just be talking about, and why they would think he's weird. Lance leans closer, trying to catch the next part of Keith's words. He didn't think about how smooth the castle door are, though, and as he puts more weight on the hand that's gripping the door, it starts to slip.

It's as if it's in slow motion, that Lance goes crashing to the floor. The lights all flicker on at the same time, and Keith jumps up, bayard in hand. Lance silently thanks that he's halfway across the room from the sharp blade.

Keith's expression is hard to read, something you might see on a cornered animal, terrified and tense, looking for an exit. Lance raises his hands slowly, stepping forwards so Keith can see him better.

"Sorry man, I didn't mean to intrude." Keith seems to relax a slight bit, and Lance counts it as a win. He steps a bit closer, approaching Keith slowly.

"It's.... okay. Why are you here?" Lance can tell that Keith wants to ask him if he heard anything. He doesn't say anything though, just shrugs his shoulders a little bit higher as he answers Keith.

"Just wondering if you got any breakfast. You were up pretty late last night." Shit. Why did he say that? Lance wasn't supposed to tell him that he knew he was up training. Keith seems surprised too, his eyebrows raised.

"Uh, yeah I did." Keith doesn't ask how Lance knew he was up, or ask him to clarify, he just nods slowly. Lance walks towards him until they're standing pretty close together, and Lance has to force himself not to stare at Keith's lips. He can't stop himself from talking, saying so much more than he had meant to give away.

"Um, you were training a lot last night. Did your remember to, uh..." Lance trails off, gesturing to his own chest. Keith snorts lightly, and Lance's heart flutters in his rib cage.

"Yes, Lance, I remembered to..." Keith makes the same gesture Lance did, pointing to his own chest. "You can just say 'take off your binder' you know."

"Sorry, yeah, that's what I meant." Lance looks to the floor, then back up to meet Keith's bright eyes. "I just wanted to make sure that if you were gonna make yourself sleep-deprived you didn't fuck up your chest at the same time."

"Hah. Nice to see you care." Keith smirks. Lance's heart stutters. If only Keith knew, he thinks. Instead, he smiles at Keith, scratching the back of his neck lightly.

"'Course, Mullet." Lance shoots him some finger guns, backing up slowly. "well, that's all I guess. I'll catch you later, man."

"Yeah, see you." Lance pretends not to notice the way Keith's voice turns to a whisper at the end of his sentence. He won't get his hopes up, not at the soft sound Keith's voice made when talking to him. Whoops, too late.

Lance's head is still stuck in the clouds as he turns the corner, and he ends up crashing into a much smaller person. He seems to be crashing into a lot of things today.

"Slav?!" Lance looks up from where he's sitting on the ground. Slav peers down at him, taking a step backwards before offering one of his many hands to Lance. Lance takes it gratefully, pulling himself to his feet and facing Slav again.

"Hello, blue paladin." Lance finds a smile spreading over his cheeks when Slav addresses him. He likes spending time with the strange alien, they get along a lot better than most people would have expected. "Would you like to accompany me to the kitchen? I was about to grab a snack for myself."

"Sure!" Lance smiles, walking in time with Slav. He has gotten fairly good at matching Slav's pace evenly, knowing that it's important to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees Slav watching their steps with his beak slightly upturned. Lance smiles too.

The kitchen is empty when they get there, and Lance takes a seat at the table. He's not particularly hungry, but he might as well have an early lunch today anyways. Slav sets about, taking out two plates and their matching place mats, two forks, and two spoons. He sets up two places at the table, one where Lance has sit and one across from him. Lance just waits patiently, holding off his usual questions until Slav has finished filling up their plates with the green goop.

"So, Lance, is something wrong?" Slav finally turns to look at him, and Lance jumps in his seat a bit. Slav always knows when something is up. Lance isn't 100% sure how he does it, but he thinks it's something about how many arms Slav has. But that's just an observation. Lance coughs into his fist, looking up at Slav.

"Yeah, you got me. A bit of," Lance looks around the room quickly, making sure that no one else is near them before continuing, "boy trouble, you could say."

"Oh dear. The same red paladin?" Slav looks intrigued, his eyebrows raised, urging Lance on. Lance flushes, swallowing thickly. He trust Slav with his secret, he knows that the alien wouldn't try to meddle in something like this.

"Yeah. I don't know, Slav, I just really like him. I just- I don't know what to do." Lance looks up from where he's been staring at his lap, instead picking at the goo on his plate. Slav seems to consider his words, tapping his fingers against the table top.

"I think you should be honest with yourself, and then with him. You need to understand what it is you want exactly, and then you can go about getting it. I think you have a better chance than you think." Slav mutters some numbers under his breath, the smallest hints of a smile appearing at his beak.

"Thanks, Slav. That... that actually makes sense. I guess I'll think on it a bit." Lance gives a dry laugh, stabbing a little bit of goo, watching it jiggle at the end of his fork.

"Just don't take too long. You never know what you'll miss if you wait too long." Something dark hides in his voice, and Lance's head jerks up. His brows furrow as he looks at Slav, wondering if he might open up to Lance.

Lance had tried to get him to open up, once before, but Slav hadn't answered. It was a simple, 'how did you wind up in that prison', but Slav had only tensed, before muttering something like 'it doesn't matter where you came from, but where you are now'. Shortly after that had he made a quick excuse to Lance before slipping out of the room. Lance hadn't seen him for a few weeks after that, and the next time he did, he didn't try to pry.

This time, though, Lance felt like he could ask and Slav might answer him. So he takes the risk. Watching the alien line his fork and knife up, Lance sucks in a breath.

"Slav have you... ever had someone you loved?" Slav sighs, turning his head up to meet Lance's eyes.

"Well... yes. It's different than yours, though, I never did stay in one place long enough to fall in a romantic love, but I had my brother. I loved him. Still do, he was the one I had back home, the only family I could ever remember. Sometimes I wonder where he is now, I mean I haven't seen him since I was taken from my planet." Lance watches Slav gaze longingly at the floor. He'd never heard the alien's voice so quiet before, most of his proper speech dropped.

"You miss him." Lance sucks in a breath. Slav looks at him and nods, a sad smile forming on his beak. Lance knows what it's like. Millions of light years away from his own family, the thought of his brother makes his heart thump heavily in his chest. He wonders if he'll see them again.

"Yes, blue paladin Lance, I do. It seems we're both missing our loved ones, aren't we." Lance nods along to Slav's words, biting his lips and focusing his eyes on the floor.

"Yeah. I think that maybe one day, though, you could see your brother again. And I could see my family." Turning a spoon around in his hand, Slav stares at Lance. A smile slowly plays out on his face, relaxing the troubled crinkle that was in his brow.

"I haven't... actually run the numbers. I don't want to. But perhaps you're right, Lance. Maybe someday, I will see my brother again. And you will as well." Lance breaths out through his nose, smiling happily at the alien. "But speaking about numbers, I have run the percents of you and the red paladin."

"Slav!" Lance tackles Slav to the floor, both of them landing in a pile by the counter. Slav looks at Lance with a smug look on his face. Lance pouts. "I don't want to hear it!"

"Really? Well, I'll let you find out for yourself then." Sending a small smile at Lance, Slav then scurries out from under him, leaving Lance to fall down to the floor. Lifting himself up a bit from the floor, Lance smiles at Slav and waves as he watches him leave.

Thinking to himself, Lance finishes off the goo on his plate and dumps it in the sink. 'What he wants', huh? He wants... well, he wants to be as important to Keith as Keith is to him. He wants to hold Keith's hand, kiss him, love him. Slapping a hand over his face, Lance breaths out through his nose. He wants to love Keith.

Lance needs to talk to Keith. He doesn't.... really want to, but he knows he should. Like Slav said. Before it's too late. They are fighting a war, death is something they face everyday. Lance needs to make the most of it, he needs to tell Keith how he feels. And he will. He promises himself, he'll tell Keith at the next chance he has, when they are alone together. Sooner, rather than later, Lance thinks.

 

Sooner rather than later is right, as later that night Lance finds himself watching the training deck again. Keith's in there, as usual, and Lance stands by the door. A sudden rush of nervousness flows through Lance, and he shivers.

The zipper of Lance's jacket knocks against the door, making a small sound that echos throughout the room. Stepping back quickly, he attempts to hide before Keith sees him.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Keith turns around, quickly ordering off the training system. Lance takes a breath, stepping back into the light.

"Just me, sorry." Keith's shoulders drop slightly, and he lowers his blade. He crosses the room, walking over to where Lance stands.

"Why are you up?" Lance scoffs.

"I could say the same to you." Keith crosses his arms over his chest. Lance huffs out a laugh at Keith's defeated face, and slides down to sit against the wall. Keith joins him, leaving only a small gap between them.

"So? Why are you here? I took off my binder, if that's what you're worried about." Lance looks over at Keith, twisting his fingers in the hem of his jacket.

"No, not really, but it is good that you took it off. I guess I just have a few things on my mind." Lance flushes. Is he really going to do this? Right here? Right now? Why not, right? What's stopping him?

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Oh shit, this is it. It's set up perfectly, Lance would be a fool too miss this chance. So he doesn't.

"Well... I have something to tell you." He looks up at Keith, watching confusion and hope grow on the boy's face. Lance bites his lip.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Lance takes a breath, looking Keith in the eyes. Keith blinks back at him, and Lance feels the heat rising in his cheeks already. "I like you, Keith."

"Oh." The red flush that covers Keith's face is stunning, and Lance feels his breath catch in his throat. His heart is racing, from both Keith's looks and the anxiety Lance feels eating him up inside. "I- Oh."

"You don't have to say anything. If, uh, you don't feel the same, we can just ignore this." Lance starts to move away from Keith, holding his arms around himself as if it would protect him from whatever Keith chooses to say.

Keith grabs his wrist, pulling Lance back to look at him. Their faces are close now, close enough for Lance to just barely be able to feel Keith's heavy breaths against his lips.

"Lance, I like you too. A lot." Lance blushes, a happy grin spreading out over his face, lighting up his ears and neck.

"Oh, that's.... cool. Yeah, really cool." Lance scratches at the back of his neck, biting his lip to hide his shy smile.

"Really Lance? Cool?" Keith shakes his head, but he's smiling. Lance laughs, punching Keith's shoulder lightly.

"You know what I mean, you ass." Resting his head on Keith's shoulder, Lance holds his breath. He can feel the shake of Keith's chest and shoulders as he laughs, feel the way his breath tickles to top of his hair. Keith wraps his arm around Lance, pulling him closer and resting his chin on the top of his head.

"Yeah, I do."

 

It's the morning, even if Keith doesn't want it to be. With bleary eyes he looks about the room, finally focusing on the mop of brown hair next to him. Lance. He smiles, running his hand through that hair, tugging at the ends of it gently. Lance groans in his sleep, lifting an annoyed hand to try and stop Keith.

It's like those dreams he had, so long ago, he realizes. Waking up next to Lance, this time only for real. Scars to remind them, memories and smiles. He never told Lance about the dreams, it didn't really matter. Because now, he's got the real thing, and he's not about to let go.

Lance stirs, and Keith looks down at him, a slow smile on his face. It's peaceful. He strokes Lance's head, watching as Lance slowly cracks an eye open and smiles up at him. Four years later, and Keith still feels the same rush in his veins. He traces the scar on Lance's back, feels it under his fingertips as he brushes them up, up, up, to the top of his spine, and pauses there, waiting.

"Good morning, babe." Lance's voice is hoarse, making Keith's heart flutter in his chest.

"Good morning." He leans down and kisses Lance, feeling the warm skin beneath his lips.

When Lance smiles back up at him, Keith knows it's going to be a good day. It always is. He has the love of his life in bed next to him, and a war won. Keith doesn't need to worry. Dreams come and go, but this is reality, and it's forever.

**Author's Note:**

> that's sweet :)


End file.
